Part 11

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Part 11

~And all the other voices said 'Change your mind you're always wrong'~

Lance did not want to watch the press conference. It was probably the last thing in the world that he wanted to see. But some kind of morbid curiosity made him turn on the TV at 3'oclock. He switched to MTV, which he was sure would be showing the conference. The sight of the guys sitting side by side at a long table, facing a group of reporters greeted him. JC was sitting between Chris and Justin, looking at his hands. Chris began to speak, but Lance did not pay attention. He watched JC, who sat fidgeting, looking pale and drawn. JC did not react to Chris' words, nor did he when Joey began to speak. But, when Justin spoke, Lance noticed a tightening of JC's jaw.

"...suggested that we tour without him," Justin was saying, "but we didn't think that would be right. We wouldn't want to be out touring while our friend was here sick. I don't think we could do it."

So management wanted them to tour without him. "Very classy," Lance muttered to himself. He watched the television as Chris started to close the conference, only to be interrupted by JC.

"Please," JC was saying, "I just want to ask all of you out there to pray for Lance. Just send your love and good vibes to him. That's really all we can ask. We'll be doing the same."

As Lance watched his bandmates leave the room, he felt the strangest urge to laugh. "Yeah," he said, "that's a good idea. Pray to the God that hates me, and is punishing me for my sins. Maybe he has a sense of humor. Let's see, what else can he do to me? How about a car accident on the way to the hospital tomorrow? Kill me before they can cut open my head. That would be funny!" Lance started to laugh. A sick, almost mad sounding laugh, until tears poured from his eyes. He stopped laughing momentarily, listening to the MTV commentary after the press conference. He heard the word "tragic". That was a word he never expected to hear attached to him. Kurt Cobain was tragic. Jeff Buckley was tragic. Great artists were tragic. Not him. He was just... "Pathetic. I'm so pathetic. What the hell is wrong with me?" That made him laugh again. "Dumb question."

The ringing phone startled him. He did not move to answer it, letting the machine pick up. "Lance, oh my God, I just heard." He recognized JC's sister, Heather's voice. "Are you ok? Call me back, all right?" Lance sighed. As cold as JC's parents had been to him, his siblings had been very accepting. Still, he did not want to talk to her, or anyone. A few seconds after Heather hung up the phone rang again. This time it was Justin's mother. He felt bad for not answering her call. She had been so good to him. The phone rang again after she had hung up. With a groan Lance turned the volume down on the machine so he did not have to listen to the messages.

Sitting on the couch, he turned his attention back to the television. They were showing a hastily thrown together tape of his career highlights. It was surreal. "It's like I'm dead already. Maybe they're practicing for the real thing." They would probably have better footage then. The guys leaving the hospital. Crying, maybe. They might interview his parents. His mother would be dry-eyed. 'Well, he did deserve it, after all. He was a sinner.'

Was his mother right? He wondered briefly what would happen if he broke up with JC. Would he get to the hospital tomorrow and the tumor would miraculously be gone? God, would it even be worth living if he had to live without JC? No, you already tried that, remember? Not worth it at all.

He was still sitting numbly, watching MTV when JC came in forty-five minutes later. He did not look up as he heard the door open, or when he felt JC's hands on his shoulders. "They work fast, don't they?" he said, indicating the TV.

"Yeah they do," JC said softly, kneading his shoulders. "I tried to call, but I got the machine."

"Yeah," Lance took one of JC's hands from his shoulder and brought it to his lips. "I didn't feel like talking to a bunch of people. There's probably, like, a dozen messages."

"I'll check them later," JC said, coming around to the front of the couch and sitting next to Lance. "You get everything done today that you wanted to?"

Lance nodded, looking away. JC reached out and gently turned Lance's face back towards him. He studied him critically. "You don't look too good."

"I wonder why," Lance replied.

JC stroked his cheek lightly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Josh, I...it's ok."

JC frowned. "Did you talk to your parents?"

"My mother," Lance admitted.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing," Lance lied. He did not want JC to know what his mother had said. He had a hard enough time dealing with it. JC would probably call and start screaming at her. It wouldn't have been the first time. "She hung up on me."

JC sighed. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, drawing Lance into an embrace.

"Not your fault," Lance murmured, resting his head against JC's chest. He breathed in JC's scent and felt his heart swell. God, was this really wrong? Could it really be wrong to love someone this much?

"No, but I hate the way she treats you. Like you're not hurting enough."

"Let's not talk about it now," Lance said, looking up at him. Looking in JC's eyes, he realized he did not care if it was wrong or not.

"What do you want to talk about then?"

Lance leaned up and pressed his lips against JC's. "Why do we have to talk at all?" He slid his tongue into JC's mouth, brushing it against JC's, feeling JC respond in kind.

"We don't," JC responded, smiling.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to But Faith Part 11 ~And all the other voices said 'Change your mind you're always wrong'~ Lance did not want to watch the press conference. It was probably the last thing in the world that he wanted to see. But some kind of morbid curiosity made him turn on the TV at 3'oclock. He switched to MTV, which he was sure would be showing the conference. The sight of the guys sitting side by side at a long table, facing a group of reporters greeted him. JC was sitting between Chris and Justin, looking at his hands. Chris began to speak, but Lance did not pay attention. He watched JC, who sat fidgeting, looking pale and drawn. JC did not react to Chris' words, nor did he when Joey began to speak. But, when Justin spoke, Lance noticed a tightening of JC's jaw. "...suggested that we tour without him," Justin was saying, "but we didn't think that would be right. We wouldn't want to be out touring while our friend was here sick. I don't think we could do it." So management wanted them to tour without him. "Very classy," Lance muttered to himself. He watched the television as Chris started to close the conference, only to be interrupted by JC. "Please," JC was saying, "I just want to ask all of you out there to pray for Lance. Just send your love and good vibes to him. That's really all we can ask. We'll be doing the same." As Lance watched his bandmates leave the room, he felt the strangest urge to laugh. "Yeah," he said, "that's a good idea. Pray to the God that hates me, and is punishing me for my sins. Maybe he has a sense of humor. Let's see, what else can he do to me? How about a car accident on the way to the hospital tomorrow? Kill me before they can cut open my head. That would be funny!" Lance started to laugh. A sick, almost mad sounding laugh, until tears poured from his eyes. He stopped laughing momentarily, listening to the MTV commentary after the press conference. He heard the word "tragic". That was a word he never expected to hear attached to him. Kurt Cobain was tragic. Jeff Buckley was tragic. Great artists were tragic. Not him. He was just... "Pathetic. I'm so pathetic. What the hell is wrong with me?" That made him laugh again. "Dumb question." The ringing phone startled him. He did not move to answer it, letting the machine pick up. "Lance, oh my God, I just heard." He recognized JC's sister, Heather's voice. "Are you ok? Call me back, all right?" Lance sighed. As cold as JC's parents had been to him, his siblings had been very accepting. Still, he did not want to talk to her, or anyone. A few seconds after Heather hung up the phone rang again. This time it was Justin's mother. He felt bad for not answering her call. She had been so good to him. The phone rang again after she had hung up. With a groan Lance turned the volume down on the machine so he did not have to listen to the messages. Sitting on the couch, he turned his attention back to the television. They were showing a hastily thrown together tape of his career highlights. It was surreal. "It's like I'm dead already. Maybe they're practicing for the real thing." They would probably have better footage then. The guys leaving the hospital. Crying, maybe. They might interview his parents. His mother would be dry-eyed. 'Well, he did deserve it, after all. He was a sinner.' Was his mother right? He wondered briefly what would happen if he broke up with JC. Would he get to the hospital tomorrow and the tumor would miraculously be gone? God, would it even be worth living if he had to live without JC? No, you already tried that, remember? Not worth it at all. He was still sitting numbly, watching MTV when JC came in forty-five minutes later. He did not look up as he heard the door open, or when he felt JC's hands on his shoulders. "They work fast, don't they?" he said, indicating the TV. "Yeah they do," JC said softly, kneading his shoulders. "I tried to call, but I got the machine." "Yeah," Lance took one of JC's hands from his shoulder and brought it to his lips. "I didn't feel like talking to a bunch of people. There's probably, like, a dozen messages." "I'll check them later," JC said, coming around to the front of the couch and sitting next to Lance. "You get everything done today that you wanted to?" Lance nodded, looking away. JC reached out and gently turned Lance's face back towards him. He studied him critically. "You don't look too good." "I wonder why," Lance replied. JC stroked his cheek lightly. "What's wrong?" "Nothing, Josh, I...it's ok." JC frowned. "Did you talk to your parents?" "My mother," Lance admitted. "What did she say?" "Nothing," Lance lied. He did not want JC to know what his mother had said. He had a hard enough time dealing with it. JC would probably call and start screaming at her. It wouldn't have been the first time. "She hung up on me." JC sighed. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, drawing Lance into an embrace. "Not your fault," Lance murmured, resting his head against JC's chest. He breathed in JC's scent and felt his heart swell. God, was this really wrong? Could it really be wrong to love someone this much? "No, but I hate the way she treats you. Like you're not hurting enough." "Let's not talk about it now," Lance said, looking up at him. Looking in JC's eyes, he realized he did not care if it was wrong or not. "What do you want to talk about then?" Lance leaned up and pressed his lips against JC's. "Why do we have to talk at all?" He slid his tongue into JC's mouth, brushing it against JC's, feeling JC respond in kind. "We don't," JC responded, smiling.